The Bloodsworn by Erin Lindsey Page A

place to bring visitors? Alix supposed it didn’t much matter. “Where is Wraith?”
    â€œNot here. You’ll have to settle for me for the time being.”
    Alix and the Wolves exchanged a look. It was Wraith they’d come all this way to see, but apparently that would have to wait.
    They were shown into the farmhouse, a humble dwelling with little in the way of furniture. A door in the back hinted at a smaller room beyond, and a cot sat in the corner, but it didn’t look to have been slept in recently. The only occupant was a falcon eyeing them keenly from its perch. Hunter or messenger? Knowing the white-hairs, the bird could even have been trained to attack. Alix kept her distance. Asvin, meanwhile, fetched a kettle and set to boiling water while the rest of his men waited outside.
    â€œThis can’t be their headquarters,” Dain said in an undertone while the Andithyrian busied himself with the tea. “Not enough room.”
    â€œThis is where I was brought the last time,” the priestess said. “Perhaps it serves as a vetting area.”
    â€œVetting?” Dain echoed, frowning. “Vetting what?”
    â€œWhy, us of course.”
    Asvin poured tea, then dragged a chair up to the table to join them. Green eyes scrutinised them one by one, sharp and unreadable. “So,” he said, “let’s start at the beginning.”
    *   *   *
    Alix growled in frustration and ran her hands over her face. “I already
told
you, I don’t know. And even if I did, I wouldn’t say. If my brother thought it wise to share such details about his forces, don’t you think he would have done so by now?”
    Asvin set his empty teacup aside, fixing Alix with that same inscrutable look he’d worn for the past two hours. “Essentially, what you’re telling me is that General Black saw fit to send his sister, two White Wolves, and an Onnani priestess to beg a favour of the Resistance, in return for which he offers—” He spread his hands, empty.
    â€œI’m sorry you feel that way,” Alix said, “but I can’t bargain with information that isn’t mine to share.” Rig wouldnever forgive her, and anyway, these men had given her no reason to trust them.
    â€œI’ve been hearing some variation of that refrain all afternoon,” Asvin said impatiently. “You’ve deflected my every inquiry, no matter how insignificant.”
    â€œAnd yet you continue to ask.”
    â€œDoes that surprise you? My comrades and I are scavengers, my lady. We spend our days scrounging for opportunities. A scrap of information here, a spot of luck there—anything we can use to strike at our enemies—and here I have the sister of the Aldenian commander general sitting across from me. A rare gift, one I cannot afford to pass up. So please—there must be
something
, some small detail you can part with, if only as a gesture of good faith.”
    Alix shook her head. This was going nowhere. There was too much at stake, and too little time, to sit here haggling like a couple of merchants. “I’ve told you what I can. If it’s not enough—”
    â€œNot enough?” Asvin’s voice grew cold. “All you’ve told me is that you need our help to find a man called Rodrik who grew up in a village called Indrask. You won’t tell me who he is, or why he’s important. You won’t tell me anything of what your brother plans, or what he thinks the Warlord plans. And in exchange for this
treasure trove
of information, you’d have us risk our lives.”
    â€œI sympathise,” Vel put in dryly.
    â€œMaybe it was a mistake to come here,” Alix said, rising. “My brother thought you’d help us, but apparently the line between ally and mercenary is thin in Andithyri.”
    It was a mistake; she knew it as soon as she’d spoken. A glint of menace flashed in the